24 Hours In Hell

I am grateful to be writing the post I am about to write.

More grateful than you can possibly know.

Here is why.

Bubba has a rash. 

Nothing too impressive. 

Here, check it out for yourself.

We went to the doctor's yesterday to have it looked at. It isn't the first time he has had a rash, he tends to be more prone to baby acne, cradle cap, contact rashes etc, so I wanted to talk about what else I might need to eliminate from my diet.

While there, I noticed a tiny red dot. 

Also, not very impressive.

It looked like a pin prick.

I pointed it out to the doctor.

He pressed on it and it did not blanch.

He pressed on the rash on Bubba's belly.

A few of those also did not blanch.

The doctor told me we had to have blood drawn,

a complete blood count and another test I didn't recognize the abbreviations for,

to rule out some things.

One of the things they needed to rule out... Leukemia.

Yes, you read that right. 

Leukemia.

Even typing that vile word makes me want to vomit. 

I saw stars.

Felt the room spin.

"But Peyton's type of cancer doesn't run in families."

The doctor told me he wasn't concerned.
I tried to believe him.

He said to head over to Quest because they are good at getting blood from little babies.

He said if they couldn't get it there, we would have to go to the children's hospital.

THAT children's hospital.

The one where Peyton lived.

The one where Peyton died.

The one I can't even think of driving past without feeling a part of me die.

The doctor gave us a lab slip and told us not to worry.

Yeah... right.

We headed to Quest.

"You have to take him." I told Hubs. "I can't do it." I started to cry.

It wasn't seeing him get a needle I couldn't handle.

I fly solo on the trips to have them vaccinated.

I couldn't be there to see him have THAT test done.

I was a mess.

I felt suddenly weak.

I thought I might drop him if I took him in.

The whole visit took maybe 15 minutes.

When they came out, Bubba had a single tear in his eye.

"He was laughing right up till the point they stuck him." Hubs told me.

I scooped Bubba up into my arms.

I begged him to be okay.

I cried.

And cried.

And cried.

There was no call last night with results.

I didn't know how to feel about that.

This morning I woke worried.

I called at 8.

At 8:30.

At 9:20.

"_____Pediatrics, this is Anne"

"I'm calling for my son's test results."

"His name"

"______ ______"

"Please hold a moment."

That 'moment' took nearly five minutes.

A myriad of thoughts ran through my mind.

Why was it taking so long?

Were they getting a doctor on the line?

I waited anxiously, repeating "He's fine. He's fine. He's fine. He's fine." with each second that ticked by.

My knees were shaking.

My hand holding the phone was shaking.

I heard a voice at the other end of the line.

"Hello, is this _____'s mom."

"Yes."
"This is Sherry, the nurse practitioner."

"Hi Sherry." My voice cracked. "Do you have ____'s results?"

"Yes I do. They are all normal."

Heavy sigh of relief. "Oh Thank God."

From there we discussed what else might have caused the red dot and the rash. 

None of which were serious.

There are no words for the relief I am feeling today.

Last night I saw images of another life. 

Of a different outcome.

I could see myself there, because I have been there.

It scared the hell out of me.

It made me want to curl into the fetal position on the floor and die.

Today I feel yet another new lease on life.

My son is healthy.

BOTH of my children are healthy, thank God.

And I am so, so grateful.